Homecoming
by WhiteLadyoftheRing
Summary: LL, AU beginning early 1984.  Lorelai pulled out a small plastic device and handed it to Luke.  He looked down at the pregnancy test, the little pink strip.  “Oh,” he said, full of understanding.
1. Chapter One

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls._

_Author's Note: Hi! Okay, so new to the fandom. So ummm hello, I'm a bit fandom ADD but don't worry, this story is really lodged in my mind so I'm highly doubting I'll abandon you with it. But yeah, it's another one of your AUs where Luke and Lorelai meet earlier on, and a look at how it affects their relationship. There will be fuzz, fluff, angst, the rating may even be upped or I'll write a companion to fill in all smuff and smut and whatnot. I've taken some liberties, of course. Um, what else? This chapter may seem a little odd but don't worry there's a lot of explanation already written into chapter two, which was originally the end of this chapter, but it was looking to be really long at the rate this was going, so I just decided to cut it off here, at a fairly logical place. All that out of the way, hope you enjoy the story:)_

* * *

Homecoming

_Chapter One_

When Luke Danes woke up that morning, he just knew it would be another long, boring day working at his dad's hardware store. It was inventory day, even; quite possibly the most boring activity one could imagine at a hardware store. He was in the stockroom, going over the contents of their most recent shipment, checking off the last of the items on a clipboard, when he heard the bell above the door ring, signaling the coming of a customer. He ducked outside the door, wiping his hands on his pants and waving a hello to the man who was already comparing the prices of their nails to those of a chain store somewhere in Woodbridge.

Groaning a little, Luke settled down in his chair, kicking his feet up on the checkout counter. What a way to spend a Friday afternoon. He looked out the window, like he often did, watching the day-to-day happenings of the small town around him. They were fairly predictable – the same people doing the same things, week to week. It was peaceful, sometimes infuriatingly so. You couldn't do anything without the entire town knowing within an hour or two.

Across the street was the park, or a playground at least. It wasn't anything special. Every Friday afternoon the same families came with the same children and played the same games, kissed the same bumped knees, quelled the same tantrums . . . but not today. In addition to the usual children was a young woman, maybe a couple years younger than himself. She looked out of place for Stars Hollow, in what appeared to be a private school uniform, rocking herself back and forth on the swing, a backpack discarded nearby. He watched her, thinking she looked awfully sad, just swinging there, watching the children play.

The man broke Luke from his reverie, clearing his throat and dropping a few boxes of supplies on the counter. Luke mumbled the general line, "Find everything okay? Great," and rang the items up, putting his purchases in a bag. "Come again soon," he said and kicked his feet back up, gazing out the window.

A few hours and several customers later, Luke looked out the window again and saw the sad girl was still there, having not moved an inch since he first saw her, still gazing forlornly at the playground. Most of the children were gone now – it was nearing dusk and any sensible parent demanded their child home by the time the streetlights came on.

He slipped upstairs to put the coffee on for when his dad came to take over, and set about brewing himself some tea. His dad had been gone a lot lately, actually anytime Luke was scheduled all day (after all, he had a habit of skipping Friday classes to work), sometimes leaving all day, coming back in time to close down the store and help Luke with dinner at home. The tea kettle whistled and he automatically set about pouring himself a cup and dropping a tea bag inside. Honestly, Luke had no idea where his dad went, but he knew better than to ask – ever since his wife died, William was distant. And now, a few years later, he was only getting worse. Instead of focusing on his work, he was entirely withdrawn. No doubt Liz leaving was a contributing factor . . .

The coffeemaker beeped, indicating it was ready. He pushed back the curtain and saw she was still out there, just as woeful as before.

It was a split second decision a long time coming, a contradiction, but like jumping off a plane – one spends weeks training, learning how to work a parachute, but the jump, the jump is the decision one makes in the blink of an eye.

He poured a cup of coffee, grabbed both mugs, and determinedly set off down the stairs, flipping the sign on the door to 'closed' and went across the street. Normally, he wasn't a very social guy, ask anyone in town, but something compelled him to do this. Maybe it was Miss Patty's voice, echoing in his head, telling him to 'put himself out there'.

Or maybe he just thought she was pretty.

And pretty she was. Not many people can pull off the schoolgirl thing, and, though it didn't seem like her thing, it certainly wasn't unpleasant-looking on her.

"Coffee?" he offered, holding the mug out to her.

She looked up at him with tired, bloodshot eyes. She'd obviously been crying, but she cracked a small smile and accepted the beverage. "Thanks," she said meekly.

He sat down on the swing next to her, wincing a little as the chains squeaked in protest of his weight. "You know," he said, "Drink too much of that and it'll kill you."

"Ah, but I _bleed_ coffee. Take it away and I'll die." She took a sip and gasped. "This, my friend, has to be the best coffee I've ever tasted. I thank you."

He turned a little pink.

"And served by such a handsome gentleman, too!" She giggled half-heartedly when he blushed some more. "Wow, those are six shades of red I've never seen before. Crayola would kill to study you." She took another drink, then looked over at him. "How did you know I'd want coffee?"

He shrugged. "You just . . . seemed like a coffee girl, I guess. I don't know."

She smiled a little.

They quickly settled into an uncomfortable silence, both rocking back and forth on their swings, sipping at their drinks.

"So," he began awkwardly. "You new around town?"

"I guess. Just . . . passing through."

"Oh," he said, a little disappointed. "Then why are you here? This isn't exactly the most exciting place to be."

She was sounding more depressed by the second. "I just needed to get away. There was a bus coming here, so I took it." She took another sip of her coffee. "I'm Lorelai, by the way. Lorelai Gilmore." She held out her hand.

"Luke Danes," he said as he gently squeezed her hand. "My dad owns that hardware store," he gestured to the building with his mug. "Nice uniform," he mentioned, grinning into his tea.

She rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I didn't ask to go to private school."

"I don't blame you," he said. "But you make it look good."

"Why, Mr. Danes, are you flirting with me?" she asked slyly.

"What? No, of course not . . . maybe, I guess, if you want me to."

She chuckled a little and shook her head, tucking a dark curl behind her ear as she worked on the coffee, her previously saddened demeanor returning. She looked about ready to cry.

"Hey," he said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she dismissed.

He looked skeptical, but just nodded, not wanting to pry. "Okay."

A few minutes passed, and finally she drew her backpack closer to her and dug around until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a small plastic device and handed it to him.

He looked down at the pregnancy test, the little pink strip. "Oh," he said, full of understanding.

"Yeah," she agreed, taking it back and shoving it in her bag again. "That was pretty much my response, too." She swung back and forth thoughtfully. "I never expected this to happen, maybe I didn't think it could. But who does expect to be a mother at sixteen?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully. "I don't know how or if this'll help, but . . . my little sister's about your age, her name is Liz, and she's pregnant, too. She left home."

"And your parents? They just let her?"

"It's just my dad," he corrected. "And he made sure she was safe and told her she was welcome home anytime, and that we'd do anything to help her. But he didn't want to pressure her."

She smiled a little. "God, I wish my parents were like that." She took a sip of coffee. "My parents are a little . . . strict. I come from a 'high class' family in Hartford, you know. And they have their own morals and stuff. Their own opinions on child-rearing. They had our futures planned out for us, Chris and I, before we were born, I think. They're not going to be exactly happy about this little . . . obstacle."

He frowned. "So have you . . ." he trailed off.

"Told them?" she supplied. "No. Actually, you're the first person I've told. I'm pretty surprised I haven't started blubbering and crying all over you."

"That's, uh, probably a good thing. I don't do really good with, ya know, crying and stuff."

She smiled a little at him. "That's okay. You're a good listener, you know that? Thanks."

"No problem," he said, thinking. He was a little disappointed that she was apparently taken and definitely pregnant, but she was nice, slightly infuriating, but nice. Maybe making some friends wouldn't be too bad for him after all. "So . . . what are you going to do?"

"Well," she began, "I was going to move out on my own as soon as I can after the baby's born and . . . find a job, I guess. Raise the kid as a single parent."

"What about the father?"

"Oh, Christopher? No doubt our parents are going to try to get us to walk down the aisle, but . . . no. I'll tell him, of course. He deserves to know, but it's going to be a, well, a very interesting conversation. But he's a smart guy, he's got a lot ahead of him and he shouldn't give it up for five minutes on the balcony."

"The balcony?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, yeah," she blushed. "I'm pretty sure that was it. I mean, it wasn't the only time, but I don't remember using a con-"

He cleared his throat, cutting her off, bright red. "Umm, I got it, thanks."

She looked up at him and smirked a little. "Seriously, I'd send you to Crayola right now if you didn't make such amazing coffee."

"Liquid death," he corrected, finishing off his tea.

The streetlights started flickering on one by one, illuminating the picturesque little town.

"Hey," he started, a little awkward, "It's getting late and kinda chilly. Why don't you come back to the store with me for a little? My dad's probably wondering where I ran off to, and I would feel pretty bad leaving you two, ya know, alone in a strange place like this." He was rambling and quickly cut himself off.

She frowned at him. "Two?"

He gestured in the general direction of her stomach.

"Oh, yeah," she said, placing her hands on her abdomen. "I'm still getting used to the idea, I guess."

He nodded. "So?"

She considered her options for a moment. "Go with this nice stranger I've just met, or go home to my parents? What kind of a decision is that?" She grabbed her backpack and saluted him. "Lead the way, Captain."

He led her across the street and through the door that clearly said 'closed', the bell above announcing their entrance. "Dad?" he called.

"Upstairs," came the reply.

Lorelai looked around for a second. She'd never considered what a small-town hardware store would look like, but if she had, this would pretty much be it. Aside from that dancing pork chop. Seriously, what's up with that?

Luke called back to her from the foot of the stairs, "Come on."

She turned her attention back to him and followed him up to the office. Luke took her mug with his to toss them in the sink, while Lorelai, set her backpack down by the door. "You came in the back way?" Luke asked, turning on the sink, and was greeted with a grunt.

A man, the source of said grunt, got up from the desk and approached her. "Well, who is this?" he asked Luke, apparently having not expected company.

"Lorelai Gilmore, sir," she smiled.

He shook her hand and grinned back, "Call me William."

"Nice to meet you, William."

"Lucas, where on earth did you find such a polite young lady?"

Luke scoffed a little. "Polite? Just wait, you'll see how sarcastic she really is."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Lorelai said.

William chuckled and looked between the two. "Well, it looks like you two know each other pretty well."

"Actually," Luke interjected, "We just met today. Lorelai's from-"

"Hartford," she provided. "Your son was just helping me. I was having a tough time."

William raised his eyebrows questioningly. Luke was about to step in, but Lorelai answered frankly, "I just found out I'm pregnant."

William stared at her a moment, eyes wide, then he replied lamely, "Congratulations."

She toed the floor lightly, mumbling a half-hearted thank you.

"How," William began, "how old are you?"

"Sixteen," she said. William and Luke exchanged knowing glances.

"Lorelai, would you like to join us for dinner?" the elder Danes offered.

"Sure."

* * *

Lorelai set her backpack down in the entryway of the Danes' home, looking around, enjoying the simplicity of it, the slightly cluttered, lived-in feel it had – something unheard of in her parents' world. "I love your house," she commented. 

"Yeah," Luke grunted.

"Hey," she said. "When does the last bus leave here?"

Luke glanced down at his watch. "Um, twenty minutes ago. Shit."

"Oh," she looked down, suddenly finding the floorboards interesting. "I guess I can call for a cab or something after dinner."

Luke realized the awkward situation they just landed in and shyly offered, "Well, I could drive you, if you want. Hartford's not that far away."

"Really?" she looked up at him.

"Sure, it's my fault you missed your bus in the first place."

"Thanks."

William interrupted their exchange. "Lucas, would you mind helping me with dinner?"

"'Course, Dad," and he disappeared into what she guessed was the kitchen.

Lorelai stood there uncomfortably, unsure of how to behave in this situation, before following him into the kitchen. There, she watched the exchange between father and son. It was interesting, the way guys communicate without actually saying anything. 'The sauce', 'Luke', 'Dad' and 'sorry' were the only words uttered by either father or son, along with their fair share of grunts.

It wasn't long before the table was set and the food ready. Taking her first bite, Lorelai's eyes widened and she gushed, "Oh my god, this is some of the best spaghetti I've ever had. And believe me, my parents go through a maid every week and a cook every month. I've tasted some good stuff."

William smiled a thank you at her, "It's Luke's recipe."

She raised her eyebrows in his direction. "Luke's? Luke _cooks_? I'm impressed." Luke blushed. "Number eight, right there!"

William interrupted this exchange, "Your parents have maids? And a cook?"

"Um, yeah," she turned her attention to her plate. "Did I not mention that?"

Dinner continued to be a bit awkward, as William was caught up with everything Lorelai had explained to Luke earlier at the park – her unexpected pregnancy, her family, her plans.

"Ooh, can I help with dishes?" Lorelai asked when they were through.

"Um, sure," Luke raised an eyebrow and helped her clear. "Well, I should probably get you home. It's pretty late."

"What?" William cut in. "Neither of you are going out this late, especially not to Hartford. Lorelai, call your parents and tell them you're safe and you'll be home in the morning."

Lorelai couldn't help but laugh a little at the protectiveness he had for a total stranger. "Yes, sir," she said in all seriousness and located the phone. She dialed the familiar number and waited while it rang.

"_Hello?"_

"Um, hi, could I speak to Emily or Richard? It's Lorelai, their daughter."

"_Just a moment, Miss Gilmore."_

She waited while the phone changed hands.

"_Lorelai? Where on earth have you been? You missed dinner and your father and I have spent the past hour trying to track you down!"_

"Hi, Mom."

"_Well? Explain yourself."_

"I was, um, working on a school project . . . thing, with a friend. And I'm going to stay the night."

"_Which friend?"_

"Huh?"

"_Which friend are you staying with? Really, Lorelai, you can't expect me to let you stay overnight with _strangers_."_

"Um, yeah, about that . . ."

"_Oh, damn, Lorelai, never mind. Your father and I are going to be late for that fundraiser. I expect you back by lunch tomorrow."_

"Of course, Mom."

"_Goodbye, Lorelai."_

"Bye, Mom," and she hung up the phone with a sigh.

Luke approached her shyly, "So, that was . . ."

"My mother," she rolled her eyes. "The famous Emily Gilmore. Or Emily Post, same difference."

"Emily Post?"

"Never mind," she smiled.

"So," Luke began, leading her up the stairs. "Dad said you could stay in Liz's old room."

"Thank you so much for letting me stay here, by the way."

"It's no problem," he said, opening the door to Liz's room.

Inside she saw what she expected most teenage girls' rooms look like (other than hers, of course). Clothes were strewn every which way, and posters lined the walls (Pat Benatar, apparently the girl had good taste). She did notice that there was a crib and a changing table all ready there. Apparently, they were prepared, or at least hoping, for Liz's return.

"Here," he gruffed, heading for the closet. "I'll find you something to wear."

"Thanks."

He finally pulled out a pink nightshirt and handed it to her. "I, uh, hope it's, um, your size."

"It looks fine."

"The bathroom's across the hall." She nodded and they stood there awkwardly for a moment, before he finally moved toward the door.

"Hey, Luke?"

He stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"

"I'm really glad I met you." She offered him a smile and he returned it.

"Me, too, Lorelai."

She finally just stood back and examined him. He was a handsome young man, in that rugged way, so unlike Chris's boyish charm. He was a senior in high school, or that's at least what he gathered from the discussion at the dinner table. He wore work boots, jeans and a flannel shirt – probably the best thing for working at a hardware store. And a grey baseball cap, turned backward on his head.

She quickly realized she was staring and averted her gaze.

"'Night," he said softly.

"Night-night."

* * *

_Please, review! You know you want to!_


	2. Chapter Two

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls. Some dialogue courtesy of episode, 3.13 "Dear Emily and Richard"._

* * *

_Chapter Two_

Lorelai groaned and rolled over, looking at the clock on the nightstand. 4:03 AM, and she'd not gotten any sleep whatsoever. Just tossing and turning, turning and tossing, crying . . .

She was grateful for the distraction Luke and William had provided earlier, but now, alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help but realize exactly how scary her situation was. She was going to be a mother. At sixteen. And she planned to do it all on her own. It was the only way, she knew, something she had to do for herself, by herself, but that didn't make it any less frightening.

She rolled out of bed with a thump, wrapped a blanket around herself and made her way to the bathroom, just a way to pass the time. She crept out of what had once been Liz's room, careful of the old house's squeaky floorboards. She was just turning the doorknob to the bathroom when she noticed a faint light from downstairs. She pulled the blanket more firmly about her shoulders and slowly made her way down to the kitchen, only to find William and what looked to be a box of old photos.

"Hi," she whispered.

Startled, he looked up but smiled upon seeing her. "Couldn't sleep either?"

She shook her head. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," he said, gesturing to the chair next to him.

"So . . . " she ventured, unsure of how to start a conversation.

He grunted in response.

"Is that . . . ?" she pointed to a picture of a little boy that she assumed to be Luke and a beautiful woman. They were lying in a heap on the lawn, laughing.

"Yeah," he smiled sadly. "That's my wife."

"She's beautiful."

"She was."

"I'm sorry."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence once again.

"What happened to her?" Lorelai whispered.

"She got real sick."

Lorelai just laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"You're in quite a serious situation, you know," he changed the subject.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I know my parents are going to hate it, but . . . I think I need to do this myself. You know, raising the kid, supporting it and stuff. My way. No cotillion or fancy dinner parties, just . . . love, I guess."

"So your parents are the real deal, huh?"

"You have no idea. What first made me think I might be pregnant was, well, I couldn't fit _into _my dress for my coming-out-thing. And then everything started adding up and so I hopped on the first bus leaving Hartford – I couldn't let my parents finding out through whatever connections they had that I was at the drugstore buying a pregnancy test – and went to Doose's Market. . ." she pronounced the word 'Doose' the way it's spelt.

"Doose," he corrected her.

"Yeah, Doose's Market and grabbed a test, found the nearest restroom and . . . well, next thing I know the strip'd turned pink and I was spilling my guts to your son." It was only then that she realized she'd been rambling.

"That's quite a story."

"Made for TV, even."

He chuckled lightly. "What about the dad?"

"He's . . . not ready to be a father, and I don't think he ever will be. I mean, I'm not exactly the picture of maternal, but I'm trying. And there's no point in both of us ruining our lives."

He nodded a little. "So, your way? What does that entail?"

"Well," she said thoughtfully, fingering the picture of Luke and his mom, "I was going to move away. Hopefully out of Hartford and get a place, get a job. Do the single parent thing, you know."

"It's gonna be tough," he reminded her.

"I know, but it's what I've gotta do. I owe . . . 'it' at least that much," she murmured, placing her palms flat on her stomach.

"I admire you for that. Doing it on your own."

"Didn't your daughter – Liz was it? – do the same thing?"

He pushed a picture over to her. "That's Liz. And not really. She took her boyfriend with her. I love her, but that girl's not going to work a day if she doesn't have to."

Quietly, Lorelai asked, "What did you do? When you found out?"

He sighed. "She was already gone. She called, after we'd been looking for her a good three days and she just said 'Dad, I'm pregnant.'"

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you do?"

"I asked if she was safe, got an address, a phone number. She told me Jimmy'd gotten a job and they'd found a cheap apartment. I made sure she understood that we're here for her and she's more than welcome to come home anytime she wants. No strings attached."

"Wow," she whispered. "You're a great dad."

He smiled sadly at her. "Yours wouldn't do the same?"

She shrugged. "I doubt it. Maybe. He might want to, but . . . my mom would never let me back after I left. Not without some absurd conditions."

He nodded a little. "Where do you plan to go?"

"I have no idea."

"You should come to Stars Hollow." She gave him a curious look. "And you can work at the hardware store."

She sighed, realizing she should've seen where this was headed. "William, I can't let you do that. I need to do this on my own. And plus, I'm no good at a hardware store. All I can do is sit behind the desk and make coffee, and mine isn't nearly as good as Luke's."

"Lorelai," he said. "Please, just let me help you when you need it. With Liz, I . . ." he trailed off, and she instantly realized that to the Danes, or at least William, she was a chance to redeem what his own daughter had denied him. Normally she would find this infuriating, but when she saw the look of sadness on his face, she knew she couldn't deny him.

"I'll do my best," she said quietly.

"You know, we have an inn here, the Independence Inn. I'm good friends with the owner, and I think she mentioned expanding. I'm sure they'll need some help once they get the extra rooms up and running. I could get you an interview."

She smiled at him, "That'd be great, thanks."

He patted her hand. "It's late. Or early. And you need your rest."

She nodded and got up. "Thanks again."

"It's my pleasure. Sleep well."

"Yeah, you too."

And they both headed off to bed.

* * *

"Oh my god, Luke," Lorelai gasped. "_You_ made these pancakes? They have blueberries and everything!" 

"Thus blueberry pancakes," he quipped.

She scowled, "You're lucky you can cook, with a personality like that."

He grunted in return.

She proceeded to inhale the entire plate of pancakes before her, in remarkable time even. William and Luke sat stunned.

Luke finally grinned into his juice, "I know they say you're eating for two, but are you sure you're not having triplets?"

She scowled again and threw her napkin at him. "For your information, I always eat like that."

"That's quite impressive," William commented.

"Quite," she proclaimed proudly.

William began clearing the table when Luke rose and started awkwardly, "Well, I can give you a lift back to Hartford if you'd like. So you won't have to waste any more money on bus tickets or anything."

"Thanks," she smiled and gathered up her sweater and backpack.

William came over and handed her a slip of paper. "Good luck," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

She pocketed the paper. "Thanks."

And with that she and Luke were in the old green truck, on their way to Hartford. The ride was mostly silent, aside from Lorelai giving the necessary directions. Her mind was too swamped with thoughts of babies and screaming parents to come up with any witty conversation starters.

"Wow," he said, pulling up in front of the Gilmore residence. "You live in a museum?"

"Uh, no, that's my . . . house, I guess. I've lived there my entire life."

"Seriously?" She nodded. "You weren't kidding when you said you're rich."

She shrugged, grabbing her backpack. "Well, looks like I've gotta face the music."

"Yeah."

She opened the door and stepped out, hesitating a moment, looking up to the sky at nothing in particular.

"Lorelai?"

"Hmm?" she looked back at him distractedly.

"If you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks," she smiled a little.

She took a deep breath and made her way up the front steps, bracing herself for the unavoidable yelling that lay ahead.

* * *

"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore!" Emily yelled, following Lorelai up the stairs. "How dare you do this to your father and me?" 

Lorelai spun around and looked at her angrily. "To _you_?" She folded her arms across her chest. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"It has everything to do with me, Lorelai. What will the DAR ladies say? What will _everyone_ say?"

"I don't know," Lorelai scowled. "How about, 'Oh, my, that Lorelai. She sure screwed up, huh? She got herself into this mess.' Huh, I didn't hear the words 'Emily' or 'Richard' anywhere in there, did you?"

"Lorelai," her mother said, glaring. "This is not a joking matter."

"Don't you think I know that? It's my body, my life, my future. Not yours. Just Lorelai's. Lorelai does not equal Emily, got it?"

"I do believe it is my business if my daughter is cheating on her boyfriend."

"Huh? Mom, seriously, do you really think I'd do that?"

"Then who was that young man who dropped you off this morning, hmm?" Emily raised one eyebrow, tapping her index finger impatiently.

"Luke? When did you see Lu . . . you've been spying on me!"

"Lorelai, it's my house, I can do what I want in it. And I saw that hooligan drive you up to _my house_ and drop you off this morning. And then you come in and tell us you're pregnant? Really, Lorelai, how stupid do you think I am?"

Lorelai's mouth dropped open, not believing what her mother was saying, and for once in her life, finding nothing to say.

"You probably don't even know who the father is," Emily scoffed.

"It's Chris! Mom, this is crazy."

"Well," Emily sneered, "maybe you should have thought about that before you went sleeping around."

Lorelai opened her mouth as if to speak, but faltered, hurt. She turned and ran to her room as fast as she could, slamming the door behind her and collapsing onto the bed.

She always hated crying. It was a sign of weakness and she hated being weak. Her strength and independence had always been her best qualities. Years of put-downs from her parents and numerous scoldings for simply acting her age had forced her to build a buffer between her and the outside world; a defense her parents had never been able to penetrate, as hard as they tried. She only cried for herself, her own mistakes, her own insecurities. She never let anyone make her cry – that's what made crying so weak.

But her fortress had been destroyed. It wasn't for her or the baby that she cried, but for her parents. Her mother's accusations of her being a hussy, her father's grim disappointment and anger. She felt weak.

* * *

Lorelai frowned, listening to her parents fight with the Haydens in the living room. She was with Chris now, sitting on the stairs. Her parents had invited them over to tell them the news. She hadn't even known until she'd heard the yelling from downstairs and come down to investigate. Chris had joined her shortly, but had yet to say a word to her. They were just sitting there, silent, listening as their parents fought over their future, not even bothering to ask what they thought. 

"This is unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable," Straub Hayden growled, accepting a drink from Emily.

"I feel sick," his wife, Francine, whimpered into her handkerchief.

"Everything's gone," he continued. "It's been tossed right out the window." He turned his attention to his wife, angrily, "Stop crying."

"Here Francine, drink your water," Emily comforted, handing her a glass. "We all need to calm down. Getting upset isn't going to get us anywhere."

"What do we tell people?" Francine whispered.

"Well, who needs to know?"

"What do you mean, who needs to know?" came Straub, loud and clear.

"You don't have to yell at me, Straub."

"Everybody has to know, Emily. Everybody _will_ know. We can't pretend this didn't happen."

"You could send her away," Francine suggested.

"Excuse me?" choked Emily.

"Aren't there places that take girls like that?"

"Girls like what, Francine?"

"Well, girls in," she sobbed a little, patting her face again. "I can't handle this; I can't handle this at all."

"Stop crying, dammit," Straub shot out angrily.

"Christopher is just as much to blame as Lorelai is," Emily reminded them.

"Like Hell he is," Straub grunted.

"They are in this together."

"I don't see why. Why should Christopher sacrifice everything we've planned for him just because . . ."

"Choose your words extremely carefully, Straub," Emily warned.

"Emily, you know we love Lorelai, you know that," Francine defended. "But Christopher's so young, he's a baby."

"Well, Lorelai's not exactly collecting social security," Emily mused.

"Why doesn't she get rid of it?" Straub asked.

"What?" Emily snapped.

"Straub."

Lorelai gasped, appalled at the idea, and Chris looked over at her sadly.

"It's an option," he shrugged.

"It certainly is not an option," said Emily.

"Why not?"

"Because I say so."

"Then what the Hell are you suggesting Emily? What's your great solution to this problem?"

Nearby was Richard Gilmore. He'd been watching this exchange silently, thoughtfully, and only now decided to speak up. "They will get married," he said, "they will live here, and Christopher will go to work at my company. That is the solution. Now, we have a plan so we can all stop talking about it. Please excuse me," he added, getting up, "I have work to do." With that, he stormed moodily off to his study.

"I think Richard's plan sounds very sensible," Emily chirped.

"I just have one question – why his company?" Straub demanded.

"What do you mean, his company?"

"Well, I have a law firm. Christopher could go to school."

Their quarreling continued as Lorelai finally decided to break the silence. "I know we're all upset here folks, but maybe we should ask the kids what they think. Lorelai, Christopher, anything to add here?"

"Quiet, they'll hear you," Christpher shushed.

"Not likely," she rolled her eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can just sit here like this."

"It's okay, let them talk."

"They're talking about us," she reminded him.

"They're trying to figure out what to do."

"What to do with our lives. _Our lives!_ Yours and mine and . . ." she trailed off, placing her palms against her stomach, "its."

"We're gonna need their help."

"We can take care of ourselves," she assured him.

"How?"

"We'll figure it out."

He thought for a moment before venturing softly, "It's okay. It sounds okay."

"What sounds okay?"

"You know, working for your dad, living here," he shrugged. "It sounds okay."

"Are you . . . proposing?" Her eyes went wide.

"I guess. So?"

"Chris, no, what about Europe? What about sleeping on a bench in Paris?"

"We can't do that now," he said sternly. "We have to get married. I have to get a job."

"No," she said firmly.

"No?"

"No, I can't let you do this. You're not ready to be a father, much less a husband."

"So you won't marry me?" he asked, a little surprised.

"No, Chris, not now at least. Maybe . . . maybe later. When we're ready."

He nodded a little to himself. "I guess I'll ask you again once you've," he gestured vaguely toward her abdomen, "you know."

"That's not enough time."

"How do you know?"

"I just know," she said, rubbing the slight swell of her tummy once more.

"We're getting married," he told her. "Our parents will make it happen."

"Chris," she sighed. "You just don't get it."

And with that, she padded softly to her room, leaving Christopher to sulk on his own.

* * *

_That review button thingy there? It's there for a reason. ;)_


	3. Chapter Three

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls._

_Author's Note: Okee, done early! Wow, the response this has gotten. Surprised and pleased, that I am. Thanks for all the support, it's much appreciated. And ummm this chapter begins what I like to call Scenes In Time, which is going to be a lot of this story. Since it covers years and years, I can't exactly detail all of that, but at the same time it's unfair to just skip over it. So this is a mini form of SIT. Huzzah. That out of the way, enjoy. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Three_

Lorelai pulled her knees to her chest and leaned her head against the railing. It was here, one week ago, that Chris had proposed to her. Chris. Sixteen year old Chris. They weren't ready to be married. They weren't ready to be parents, even, but they didn't really have much of a choice in that.

After her first prenatal appointment Monday, life had continued as it always did. A new maid, a new cook, more DAR functions for her mother to fret over, a new account stressing her father out. It almost seemed the world had forgotten she carried a new life inside her. Just looking at her, you couldn't tell; she looked a little thicker around the middle, but certainly not pregnant. She felt she might even forget soon, too, but in her mind all she could see was that little pink strip.

The phone rang and she jumped a little, bonking her head on the stair-rail. She heard the maid answer and hand it over to Emily.

"Well, hello, Francine. . . . What? What do you mean, he's gone?" Lorelai felt something in her gut clench. "No, we haven't heard from him. . . . Not Lorelai, either, no. . . . Well, did you check for a note? . . . Go, then, check, I'll wait." Lorelai held her breath, waiting for more information from her mother's end of the conversation. "California? California! How can he just up and leave for California when his girlfriend's here in Hartford carrying his child?"

Lorelai felt tears stinging her eyes and she settled her chin on her knees. The rest of the conversation went past her as she sat there, gripping her legs, trying with all her might not to just break down and cry. This was all wrong. He should at least be there for the birth, right? She wiped at her eyes and ran up to her room, changing into her pajamas and diving under the covers, waiting for sleep to overtake her.

Unfortunately, her mind was moving too fast for that, and she could hear her parents arguing loudly downstairs about this being Lorelai's fault.

She lay there for hours, sniffling in the dark, her favorite teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms. She knew she wanted to do this alone. She knew she wanted to get away. But this was his child too. She had no intention of keeping _it_ from Christopher. Not even close. She wanted him to play catch with a little boy, or have a little girl stand on his feet as he danced with her. He was supposed to be a father, just not a husband.

Maybe, she thought, maybe he only wanted this baby if she were part of the deal, too.

She ran her hand lightly up and down her stomach, thinking of the life growing there. "Well, little one, looks like the plan has changed. Again."

She thought of Stars Hollow, the charming little town she'd visited only a week ago. Maybe that man, William, was right. That was the perfect place to raise her child, away from her parents, away from Straub and Francine, away from Christopher . . . she could see herself in that park, pushing a young child on the swing, or walking along with a stroller, waving to the quirky townsfolk.

Actually, it might be her only choice. Stars Hollow. She simply couldn't stay in Hartford, in a city like that. The small town life was really best for her, and more importantly her unborn child.

Stars Hollow.

She leapt out of bed and flipped on the light before rifling through her backpack and pulling out a little slip of paper.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number, not even realizing it was one in the morning. A sleepy and disgruntled voice answered. "_Don't you know what time it is?"_

"William?" she asked meekly.

"_Yeah, who is this?"_ he gruffed.

"It's Lorelai. Do you remember me?"

"_Lorelai? Oh, yeah, hi Lorelai, sorry about that, but . . . it _is_ the middle of the night."_

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I just . . . I needed someone to talk to. Please?" She heard him sigh.

"_Sure, but . . . I have to open the store in the morning, and . . . here, let me get Lucas. You'll talk to him, right?"_

"Mhm, thanks."

She heard shuffling and muffled conversation. _"Dad? What the hell?" "Wake up." "It's the middle of the night!" "Phone. Now." "Daaaad . . ." "It's Lorelai."_ There was some thumping and surprisingly soon, the familiar sounds of someone picking up the phone._ "Um, hello?"_

"Hey, Luke? It's Lorelai, remember me?"

"_Of course," _he said, and added quickly_, "uh, I mean yeah, I do."_

"Thanks . . . thanks for talking to me like this."

"_Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry, but why exactly did you call?"_

"Christopher ran away."

"_Christopher? You mean the . . ."_

"Yeah. Him. Went away to California. Left a note."

"_Oh, Lorelai, I'm sorry. That sucks."_

"Yeah, and everyone's saying it's my fault."

"_Your fault? Why?"_

"Uh . . ."

"_Oh."_

"Yeah."

"_He's a deadbeat."_

She had to laugh a little. "Yeah, I guess so. I can't even talk to my friends about it."

"_Why not?"_

"My parents don't want anyone to know I got knocked up. They can let everyone believe I'm just getting fat and pretend I went to boarding school in the fall. It'll all work until Chris and I get married and then we'll be perfectly socially acceptable. But long story short, no friends for Lorelai."

"_So you're engaged?"_

"Engaged? Why would you- oh. Yeah, he proposed and everything, but I said no. That's not going to stop my parents, though."

"_So, your plan?"_

"Yeah, looks like it's changed a little, hasn't it?"

"_Just a little. Any ideas yet?"_

"Actually, I was considering moving to Stars Hollow."

"_Stars Hollow? Really?"_

"Yeah, it sounds like a nice place, and . . . your dad has been a lot of help. And so have you."

"_I haven't really done anything . . ."_

"Uh, you're talking to some girl you barely know at one in the morning. As far as I'm concerned you're some sort of angel."

"_Aw, jeez."_

"I just need, you know, a job and a place to live and all those little details."

"_I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind if you-"_

"No, Luke, you barely know me. You aren't going to offer me a place in your house."

"_We could get to know you. You're not due till . . ."_

"October."

"_October, that's plenty of time."_

"No, it's not. Not really."

"_Lorelai, listen."_

"No, I'd never accept. You may not know me well, but you should at least know that."

"_Then let me help you? I can find a job and a place for you. Please."_

It was then she remembered his sister, Liz. The Danes boys meant nothing bad by using her to replace Liz. They were hurting, just like she was. And they could help each other. "Your dad did mention an inn . . ."

"_The Independence Inn?"_

"Yeah, I guess that's it."

"_I'll talk to Mia tomorrow. See if we can work something out."_

"Hey, Luke?"

"_Yeah?"_

"Thanks."

--

It had been nearly two weeks since her late night phone call to the Danes family, and now she was sitting in her room, rocking out to her walkman while she worked away at her trig homework, enjoying her time in the house without her parents. "SOHCAH . . ." she mumbled to herself. "Adjacent . . . hypotenuse . . . inverse cosine . . ." she was interrupted by the phone ringing, shaking her from her music. She ripped off her headphones and answered the offending device, "City Morgue."

"_Huh?"_

"Luke?"

"_I knew you weren't getting along with your family but jeez, the morgue? A bit much."_

"Ha ha, funny, joke's over," she held the pencil in her mouth as she flipped through the pages of her textbook. "Tho whaddya callin' for?"

"_I talked to Mia, my dad's friend at the inn."_

She stopped her search, took the pencil from her mouth and gave him her full attention. "Yeah?"

"_Uh, yeah, she was really understanding, actually. They'll be needing more maids starting late January early February and she'd be glad to have you. I know it's soon but . . ."_

"No, Luke, it's perfect. Thank you. You don't know what it means to me. I guess now all I need is a place to stay."

"_Um, actually I got that covered, too."_

"I already told you I'm not going to take your offer."

"_I know, this is Mia's actually."_

"Really?"

"_Yeah, there's this old potting shed by the inn. It's got running water and electricity and all that stuff. It's like a little house. Don't know why it's like that, but it hasn't been used in a long time. She said you're welcome to stay there as long as you'd like, and she'll take money for room and board out of your paychecks, but it's better than nothing, I guess."_

"Wow."

"_Wow?"_

"That's really nice of her. Are you sure there's no strings attached?"

"_Pretty sure. She's a nice person like that."_

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. It's just . . . here in this little world, _nothing_ comes for free. There's always a catch."

"_Ah."_

"So, how's your dad?"

"_Oh, uh, he's fine. You know, working at the store. Making a big deal about me graduating all the time. And let me tell you, it's downright annoying. It's just a small-town high school graduation, no-one gives a damn. I mean, it's not like it's prep school or college or like I'm valedictorian or anything. I even took an extra year to graduate. If it weren't for my dad making such a big deal about this, I wouldn't even do the stupid ceremony. Guys wearing dresses and stupid hats with little cat toys on them. And for what? A stupid piece of paper."_

She couldn't help but smile broadly. "You like to rant."

"_What?"_

"Rant? You know, go on and on about something that annoys or angers you. Rant."

"_I do not."_

Her smile faded into a knowing smirk. "I like ranting Luke."

"_Glad to be of service."_

"So when's this graduation?"

"_Uh, June 11__th__ or something like that."_

"June 11th, huh?"

"_What are you planning?"_

"Nothing."

"_I don't believe you."_

"I didn't expect you to."

--

Luke had just flipped the sign on the door to 'closed' and was sweeping up, anxious to go home and relax after a long day's work at the hardware store. He heard the bell above the door jingle and immediately called out, "We're closed."

"That's never stopped me before."

He turned around and stared, wide-eyed. "Rachel?"

She smiled, tucking a curl behind her ear. "What? Forgotten me already?"

"No, no, of course not," he said, still just staring in shock.

She ran up to him, dropping her bags along the way, and kissed and hugged him. "Mm, it's so good to see you again."

He put his arms hesitantly around her. "Mhm."

She pulled back and smiled broadly at him, grazing the backs of her fingers against his stubble. "Never change, do you?"

He gave her a lopsided smile. He always gave into her like this; was that what love meant?

"Hey, so I'm just here for the night."

He wilted.

She rambled on, "And that's probably a good thing. You know how hard it is to sneak around without the whole town knowing what you're up to."

He frowned, "Your parents don't know you're here?"

"Uh, no, actually. I thought they'd try to make me stay and I just don't want that. They don't understand me." She put her hands on his shoulders. "You do."

"You know, I really hate this."

"Hate what?"

"You. Coming, going like this. No warning."

"Luke . . ."

"No, Rachel, really. I miss you so much when you're gone for a month or two at a time, and then you show up for a night or two and . . ." he trailed off. _Every time, my heart breaks._

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? It's not my fault I graduated and you . . . oh, god, I didn't mean it like that."

He waved it off. "It's okay, I get it."

"No, really, Luke, I'm sorry."

He waved it off again and changed the subject, "So I guess you need a place to stay for the night?"

"Yeah."

He sighed and put up his broom. "You can sleep on the couch."

She frowned a little. "The couch? Come on, Luke, it's not like we haven't . . ."

He cleared his throat, cutting her off. "No, it's not that. It's just dad and . . . it just makes it a little _weird_, don't you think?"

"We don't have to . . . you know."

"Yeah, but it's still awkward."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," she nodded, understanding his hesitance.

He quickly finished locking up and put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on."

--

After having settled down in the Danes home, careful not to wake William, Rachel ran to the upstairs bathroom to get ready for bed. She peeked in Liz's bedroom and called out softly, "Luke?"

"Yeah?" he replied, clambering up the stairs.

"Liz is still gone?"

"Uh, yeah, she is."

She laughed a little. "You probably forgot, huh?" She kissed his cheek and moved her things into the vacant bedroom, leaving Luke watching her, a little bothered by her sleeping in that room. Maybe he was just still thinking of his offer to Lorelai.

--

Luke woke up with a groan, rubbing at his eyes. He rolled out of bed, hit the bathroom, then quietly approached Liz's room. The door was ajar. He gently pushed it open and peered inside. "Rachel?" he whispered.

Nothing.

The bed was made, and on the pillow was a note written in Rachel's hurried script, "Luke, thanks for everything. Love, Rachel."

He crumpled the paper in his fist and sighed.

"I saw Rachel was here last night."

Luke startled and turned around. "Oh, hi Dad. Yeah, she needed a place to stay."

"And she's gone already?"

Luke nodded sadly.

William sat down on the bed and gestured for Luke to do so as well. "What's going on between you two?"

"Huh?" Luke asked, confused.

"Are you and Rachel . . ."

Luke shrugged. "I guess. We never really broke up."

"Ah."

"'Ah,' what?"

"Well, you've been on the phone with Miss Gilmore quite a lot lately, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, I'm helping her-"

"And you've been writing letters whenever you're not talking."

"What can I say? She likes to talk," Luke defended.

"And she's going to come here regularly once she's done with school."

"She needs to get to know the town."

"Because she's moving here."

"Well, yeah."

"Luke, are you . . . do you have feelings for Lorelai?"

"What? No. Of course not. Why would I?"

"Because you, my grumpy, antisocial son, are doing everything in your power to help her."

"But Liz-"

"I know you miss your sister," William consoled, placing a hand on Luke's shoulder. "But this is much more than this."

"No, Dad," he said sternly. "Nothing's going on between me and Lorelai."

William raised his eyebrows, obviously skeptical of this. "Fine, then. So what are you doing today?"

"Fixing up the shed for Lorelai," Luke answered, heading back to his room to change.

William grinned knowingly and shook his head.

* * *

_Heehee. Review? Please?_


	4. Chapter Four

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls._

_Author's Note: I am SO sorry for the wait! It's been really hectic here and I think I have good reasons for this being delayed. First off was move-in weekend for school, and at the same time my mother was sent to the ER, several specialists and finally the hospital (and she's having surgery tomorrow). So I had to really move in during my first week of school. Then I had to catch up on what I was missing in school, etc. and here we are. On top of that this has been a really hard chapter to write. It's very much so a filler chapter, more for character development than plot, and there's really no unifying theme. But! The next chapter is going to be so awesome you won't even know what to do with yourselves. :) Enjoy!_

* * *

Luke wiped his brow and sat back on his heels, admiring his work on the bed frame he'd just managed to build. Working at a hardware store sure had its advantages. The inn was at a lull, not many guests, all between the spring holidays and the summer rush, giving him the perfect opportunity to work on Lorelai's furniture without disturbing too many people.

Mia had offered to throw in some furniture too, but those would have to come out of Lorelai's pay as well, so Luke generously offered to make what he could so Lorelai could keep as much cash as possible. He was on the brink of giving up – he may be good at building, but he also didn't want to screw this up; someone could get hurt.

He sighed and started sanding it down a final time, knowing she'd have a little kid clambering all over it in a few years, and she wouldn't appreciate pulling out too many splinters. He glanced inside the potting shed door and saw the furniture – Liz's baby furniture. His dad had all but given up hope on Liz returning to Stars Hollow to raise her child, and only kept the baby stuff out of storage for Luke's sake. When Luke had asked if he could give it to Lorelai, or lend it to her at least, he'd acquiesced without a second thought.

Luke shook his head and continued sanding, letting the motions clear his mind from thoughts of anything else.

"Well, you look busy."

He turned around and startled to see the familiar face of Mia leaning over him. "Geez, Mia, you scared me."

She smiled kindly, "Sorry, Lucas."

He grunted a little and returned to work.

"You know, you seem really excited about this young lady coming here."

He shrugged.

"In fact, I've never seen you work like this before. Of course you were always a hard worker, but this is different."

"I just want her to be-"

"Happy?"

"Comfortable," he corrected, though he'd turned a light shade of pink.

She grinned a little. "That's a very nice thing to do."

"I'm a nice guy," he said, groaning as he flipped the bed frame over. "You're always saying that." He proceeded to sand this side, too.

"Well, of course. But this is . . . _nice_. Really nice."

He sighed and dropped his tools. "What are you getting at?"

"You just seem really involved, that's all."

He shrugged and returned to his work.

* * *

June 11th rolled around and Lorelai was finding it harder and harder to conceal her ever-growing stomach. It was far from simple for her to hear her peers' comments on her sudden weight gain. And it was extremely uncomfortable to wear a large sweater during June. But now it was over. Her last final completed, the school year over.

She fidgeted in her seat on the bus, now wearing a more comfortable maternity dress with her school uniform packed away in her bag. Checking her watch again, she squirmed in her seat as the bus finally left, heading toward Stars Hollow.

Upon arriving she flew into the school as fast as her swollen ankles could carry her. She stopped just inside the auditorium and looked around, before finally spotting William. She waved to catch his attention before pushing through the crowd exclaiming "Lady with a baby coming through!" as she went.

William smiled at her as she settled into the seat next to him, her hands promptly settling themselves on her bump.

"Lorelai," he said. "Don't you look lovely."

"Oh, yes, the maternity fashion is at its height now, I'm telling you," she quipped.

He chuckled and turned his attention back to the stage, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

"So . . . this is the big day, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She grinned at him. "You look proud."

"I am," he nodded, looking at her fondly.

"Me, too," she beamed.

And with that the ceremony started. It was a little quirky, as most Stars Hollow functions seemed to be, but far more enjoyable than she imagined any graduation should be. Some people she didn't recognize spoke, and now they were listing off the graduates.

"Lucas Danes," announced the principal.

And as Luke trudged up there to shake the principal's hand and receive his diploma, Lorelai jumped to her feet (well, as much as a pregnant woman could) and applauded and whooped and hollered for him excitedly. William chuckled a little, but remained sitting, smiling proudly at his son.

Luke rolled his eyes, muttered an 'aw geez' and moved his tassel.

Lorelai leaned down and whispered to William, "And there's shade number nine!"

* * *

After the ceremony, William and Lorelai waited for Luke to make his way through the crowd. He appeared, looking a little sheepish as his father embraced him, patting his back fondly. "Congratulations, Son."

"Thanks, Dad."

William pulled away and held his son at arm's length. "Your mother would be very proud of you."

Luke smiled sadly and nodded as his father excused himself and ventured out into the crowd.

Lorelai, having watched this exchange with a rueful smile, now stepped forward and proudly held out an oversized gift bag with lots of frilly pink paper. "Here you go, Mr. High-School-Graduate."

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Really, Lorelai, you didn't have to come. And you _really_ didn't have to get me anything."

She shook the bag impatiently. "And pass up the opportunity to embarrass you? You should know me better than that."

"Of course. Whatever was I thinking?" he rolled his eyes and took the present from her.

She folded her arms over her stomach and watched him expectantly. "Well? Come on, open it!"

He fished around inside and pulled out a cassette tape. "U2?"

"What else?"

"I don't listen to U2."

Her jaw almost hit the floor. "Are you serious? Boy, we have some work to do. Ooh, and for your birthday we can get you started on Blondie!"

He rolled his eyes and put the tape back in the bag. "Well, thank you. For a gift I will probably never use."

"You'd better," she warned, shaking a finger at him.

"What? Thank you?"

"No, listen to it. You are seriously deprived. I don't even know how you've survived this long."

"Luke! Darling, who is this charming young lady?"

Luke and Lorelai both turned to the owner of the voice, a robust woman dressed fantastically in what could best be described as the ugliest costume jewelry ever.

"Hi, Miss Patty, uh, this is Lorelai."

"Oh," Patty smirked knowingly, eyeing Lorelai's clearly pregnant stomach. "So I see you've gotten over Rachel so soon . . ."

Luke cleared his throat flustered-ly. "Uh, no, Lorelai's not my, we're not . . ."

"Luke's just a friend," Lorelai cut in.

Miss Patty raised her eyebrows. "Ah, I see." She winked at Lorelai and glanced suggestively at Luke, causing Lorelai to giggle into her hand. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Lorelai."

"You, too, Miss Patty was it?"

Miss Patty turned to leave but stopped to murmur to Luke, "You go, Tiger," which very nearly caused him to turn purple.

* * *

Walking down the street, Lorelai turned to William, fanning herself with her hand. "God, could it get any hotter out here?"

"Well, I'm sure it could," he said thoughtfully. "But it is pretty hot."

"You're telling me!"

He chuckled and steered her in the direction of a grand old building with a sign out front reading 'Independence Inn'.

"This is it," he said.

"Wow, it's beautiful."

"I'm sure Mia would love to hear that."

"Mia?" she asked. "Oh, Mia. She's my boss, right?"

"Yes," he nodded, leading her up the stairs. "She's doing you a great favor, you know."

"Yeah, I'm really grateful," she assured him. "To all of you. This entire town has been so great."

"You'll see, we're all a family here. We look out for each other."

"That's really nice," she said, a little dreamy.

"Oh, there you are, William," a middle aged woman approached them.

William grinned and pushed Lorelai forward. "Yes, here she is. Take good care of her, won't you?"

"Lorelai Gilmore," Lorelai offered her hand and the woman shook it.

"Mia," said the woman. "We're glad to have you, Lorelai." She glanced at the other woman's stomach. "Both of you."

"Thanks," she smiled sincerely.

"Well, then, we should get you settled in, show you around and such." She waved William off. "Go on, now, you've done your part."

He chuckled and bade them farewell as the girls made their way to a storeroom where Mia found a maid's uniform that, though a bit baggy elsewhere, looked to be able to fit Lorelai's growing form. "You'll look charming," Mia assured her before sending her off to change.

When Lorelai emerged, she was more than a little amused at her appearance. She twirled around and modeled for Mia, but was instead greeted by a familiar chuckle.

"Luke!" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly. "What are you doing here?"

"Light maintenance," he shrugged.

"I thought you worked at your dad's store," she frowned.

"Lucas fixes things every now and then," Mia pointed out.

"Ah," Lorelai smiled, "So you're Mr. Fix-it, huh? How manly."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Good luck with this one, Mia. You'll need it."

Several hours later, her first day of training over, Lorelai was back in her own clothes and exploring the grounds of the inn when she came across what appeared to be an old potting shed, much like the one Luke had informed her was to be her home.

She approached it cautiously, curious to see if it was the same one, and if it was ready to be lived in anytime soon. Cleaning the dust off the window with her sleeve, she tried her best to peer inside, but it was too dark to make out anything but vague shapes. She crept around the small building and was about to turn the doorknob when that same familiar voice interrupted her, "What do you think you're doing?"

"The twist, what does it look like?" she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Don't go in there," Luke said quickly.

She turned to face him and planted her hands on her hips. "And why not?"

"'Cause, uh, 'cause I've gotta get you home soon."

"Has anyone told you you're a horrible liar?"

"No," he lied.

She just smirked and brushed past him, heading for his truck.

* * *

It was mid-September and Lorelai's due date was swiftly approaching. In fact, this was to be her last trip to Stars Hollow before the birth. Luke had, of course, decided it was unsafe for her to be taking the bus in such a condition (though she liked to remind him she was merely pregnant and not terminally ill) and instead picked her up at her house and brought her directly to the Danes' house.

Now, she had one of William's ties on like a blindfold, her hands grasping out in front of her so as not to bump into anything, with Luke's hands lightly on her back, guiding her to this super secret destination.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"You'll see," he promised, steering her around a corner.

She pouted. "But I can't wait. Distract me." She heard him sigh and lower his hands a little to her lower back. She groaned a little and he began gently kneading the spot with his fingers. "Mm, that's good."

He smirked a little, then commented dryly, "Dirty."

She giggled with delight at having apparently corrupted him, then requested again, "Entertain me? Come on, Hardware Boy, dance."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, last week Dad and I went to see Liz's kid."

"Oh? How is she? Doing all right?"

He shrugged. "I guess. That boy's gonna be a handful though."

"What's his name?"

"Jess."

"Jess Danes . . . that's nice."

"Mariano," he corrected.

"Huh?"

"It's Jess Mariano. Liz and that loser eloped."

"Oh," she replied lamely, unsure of how else to respond.

"He's a cute kid, though."

"That's good. Hey, maybe our kids could be playmates! Wouldn't that be awesome?"

"Something like that," he grumbled, guiding her around another corner.

She continued giggling and squealing at the idea. "Uncle Luke! Isn't that adorable? You could be Uncle Luke to them both!"

"No-one's calling me 'uncle'," he grumbled.

"Aw, you're just a meanie."

"So I've been told." He gradually slowed their pace before stopping. "Okay," he whispered in her ear. "We're here."

She shook a little with anticipation as he undid the blindfold and let it drop to the ground. When she opened her eyes, she saw the potting shed, her future home, all spruced up with silk flowers in the planters and a big banner over the door reading, "Welcome home, Lorelai!" William and Mia were there, between them holding a delicious looking coffeecake.

She felt like crying (stupid hormones), and dabbed preemptively at her eyes (with Luke's sleeve). "Wow," she breathed. "All this for me?"

"Well, you're the only Lorelai I see here," William chuckled.

"Whose idea was this?"

Both Mia's and William's eyes traveled to Luke, who'd found sudden interest in his shoelaces.

"Luke, I . . ." she began, but trailed off.

"It was nothing," he blew it off with a wave of his hand.

"No," she smiled, and cautiously wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

His hands had found themselves reaching as far around her as they could and he mumbled a "You're welcome," back, before suddenly jerking away when he felt a sudden tap coming from her stomach.

She laughed, "Baby says thanks, too."

She moved to Mia and William, who had since found a better place for the cake, and hugged them as well.

"Well, let's get this party started," Lorelai announced as her friends led her into her new home. She looked around and found it to be already furnished, with plenty of opportunity for decorations. "Wow."

"Yeah, the furniture was extra stuff from the inn," Luke quickly supplied and Mia raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's very nice," she said, looking around some more, only to find five curtains sitting by the bathtub. "What are these?" she frowned.

"Uh, well, there's no walls for the bathroom, so I thought you could put a curtain up instead," Luke explained. "But I didn't know which one you'd like best."

She held up the tackiest one and grinned.

He rolled his eyes. "Of course."

She took another look around and instantly recognized the furniture from Liz's room, but chose not to say anything.

"Here, I've got the presents," Mia announced.

"Presents? No, no, no, I can't accept anything more from you guys. You've done enough already."

"Don't be ridiculous," William said, handing her a small wrapped package. "It's our pleasure."

She sat down on the bed and pondered the gift in her hands.

"That's from Liz," Luke pointed out.

Lorelai quickly tore into the wrapping and pulled out a tiny pink onesie. "Aw," she cooed.

"Let's just hope it's a girl," Mia smiled.

Luke groaned a little. "_Two_ Gilmore girls? How are we gonna handle that?"

Lorelai just beamed and held out her hands for the next present.

After more baby clothes from William and Mia, Luke finally pushed forward a large blob covered by a sheet, complete with bow on top. "Here, this is, uh, for you," he said shyly.

She stood and examined the mysterious present. "What is it?"

"Why don't you unwrap it and find out?" William suggested with a chuckle.

She pulled the sheet off easily to reveal a simple wooden rocking chair. "Whoah," she commented. "Luke, did you . . . ?"

He cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. "Um, yeah, I, uh, made it."

"He even made the cake," Lorelai heard William whisper to Mia.

"Luke, this is really too much. I could never accept this."

"No, really, it's fine," Luke insisted. "You'll need it."

"Yeah, I guess so," she nodded sitting down, then looked up at him, eyes shining. "Thank you so much."

* * *

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